


The Devil And The Hanged Man

by WhimsicalRealist



Category: Hannibal (TV), Silent Hill
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalRealist/pseuds/WhimsicalRealist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal wakes in his office, but it isn't right. Nothing is right. In the distance, sirens wail loudly as a thick fog rolls in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil And The Hanged Man

Sirens. That is what woke him. Hannibal blinked his eyes open, finding himself seated at his desk in his office. His office…was this his office? He could not recall how he had gotten there, nor falling asleep for that matter.

Though he knew it to be summer, it was cold and the world outside his windows was hidden behind dark fog that, as the sirens blared, only grew deeper and more obscuring. Casting his glance around the room, he realized that while it  _was_  his office, it wasn’t right. Too much dust, faded papers, books off their shelves, furniture tipped over in general disarray. As if it had not been used in years, but how could that be the case?

When the light had gone completely, he stood in the darkness, listening. The sirens had finally stopped as well. The electricity flickered back to life, but the light cast by the lamps was now a chilling shade of blue. It made the room look further frozen in time, casing odd shadows he would swear he could see moving.

Was this simply a dream? A very vivid and mildly unpleasant dream he could soon wake himself from? The thought was interrupted by a noise in the hall outside the office. Footsteps. Light, as if the person was barefoot.

Turning expectantly toward the door, the visitor knocked. He was uneasy, but called out all the same.

"Come in. The door is unlocked."

 

The knob was tested and when no lock provided and resistance, the door opened. He could see that the hall beyond was lost in deep shadows, but it did not interest him. What held his attention immediately was his guest. Wearing only a thin shirt and boxers, it proved to be Will.

Unidentifiable grime stained his night clothes, but the rusted cuffs around his neck and wrists showed clear signs of having rubbed the skin beneath them to the point of bleeding. His head was down, matted curls of his brown hair hiding his face from Hannibal.

"Will. Can you hear me?"

 

Nothing at first, but when Hannibal repeated his name again, the man stirred. Pulling his head up with great effort, he looked at him with tired, haunted eyes. His glasses were askew and one lens was cracked. He had clearly not shaven in some days and his lips were dry and cracked.

"Hannibal…you’re here, too? I thought this was my dream."

"And I thought it was mine, yet here we are sharing it. How long have you been here?"

"I don’t know. Days? Weeks? I woke up at home, but everything was wrong. There was cold fog outside and my dogs…someone’s taken them. Then I heard sirens. It got dark. Unnaturally dark. I could see…things, moving out in the trees. I tried to go back inside, but the door had locked behind me. Then… _it_  came for me.”

"What came for you, Will?"

"The stag. It took me away, deep into the dark. It won’t let me go. Won’t let me rest."

 

Will lifted his wrists, the chains attached to them rattling. They wound across the floor and into the hallway, where something moved in the darkness, almost lost to it. But Hannibal could see it now.

The chains connect to the heavy collar around a creature now standing in the doorway. A stag, though clearly that was not all that it was. Its fur was black, but its antlers were a cream color. Around its neck and seen also on its hind legs and tail were feathers, as if the stag were also part bird. A crow or raven of some sort. 

It fixed its gaze on him with wet, black eyes. They seemed almost human to Hannibal, but too far removed from it to be comfortable. He took a step forward, but the creature tensed, ears rising with a look of alertness.

"I  _will_  help you, Will,” Hannibal assured him. “I do not know where we are or how we came to be here, but we  _will_  escape. I promise.”

 

Before there was a chance for reply, the beast turned on silent hooves and darted into the shadows of the hallway, the heavy chains yanking along behind it. There was a lingering moment when Will looked at him with eyes so full of fear and despair before the chains pulled taught and flung him to the floor. Hannibal was powerless to stop it as the  was dragged away into the dark, legs kicking and flailing as he clutched at the shackle around his neck, calling out frantically for him.

When Hannibal moved to give chase, the door slammed shut and refused to open, leaving the doctor to listen with fists balled against the wood as his friend—if he could call Will that—was hauled away into whatever nightmare world existed beyond the room.

He began to fear he would break his promise.


End file.
